


Small Steps

by shmulia



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, and katara is his friend who's coincidentally his teacher, dance au, in which zuko learns to dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:52:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4478339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shmulia/pseuds/shmulia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko loves learning to dance, but he knows that it isn't just the dancing which makes his heart beat faster...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Steps

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from my tumblr, which was a Zutara dance teacher/student growing relationship fic. This is the dance I used as a reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AgPKNzhn5k8 Hope you enjoy! :)

The dance studio was supposed to be empty; classes had ended half an hour ago, and the studio would be closing shortly. But to the couple sweeping across the dance floor, time meant nothing but the length between every step.

The Viennese Waltz wasn’t a dance which Zuko’s friends would have associated him with – in fact, Zuko taking ballroom dance classes in the first place had been a surprise for everyone. But he had grown up loving the dances of Fred Astaire, Ginger Roberts, and Vernon and Irene Castle, and when he had seen that the classes were up and running, he had leapt at the chance to mimic his idols.

It didn’t hurt that it meant he got to spend two hours a week with Katara.

He had known Katara for years now; being best friends with Sokka and Aang had meant that Katara was around a lot of the time, and the two had been acquainted for a while.

But dancing –ah, _dancing_ was how they had become friends.

He had been nervous when he walked through the doorway into the studio for the first time. The wall-length mirror in the empty room had shown him the fear on his face as he contemplated whether or not this had been a huge mistake. He considered leaving for a good ten seconds before the door behind him swung open. Katara practically flew into the room, her braid streaming behind her as she moved to the other side of the room to throw her bag down in the corner.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” she called to the room as she spun around to face the door. The welcoming smile on her face dropped as she faced the mostly empty studio, sliding into an ‘o’ of surprise when she recognised her only student, who looked equally as shocked.

It had been awkward, to say the least; toes were stepped on, hands were tentatively placed on waists, and Zuko fell on his ass twice. But when it turned out that Zuko was a surprisingly fast learner, the awkwardness began to fade between them as they expanded his dancing repertoire – after a few lessons, he was spinning and lifting Katara as if he’d been doing it for years.

More people came to classes slowly, but Katara and Zuko always partnered with each other, unless Katara was correcting another student’s technique. They were comfortable together - Zuko couldn’t imagine dancing with anyone else – and their closeness on the dance floor had extended into their everyday lives; it was hard to be uncomfortable with someone when you spent hours in each others’ arms.

They grew together over time, both as dancers and as friends. And sometimes, when Katara smiled at him, or arched her neck gracefully as she twirled out of his arms, Zuko knew that his heart rate wasn’t speeding up because of the dancing.

He’d long since admitted to himself the truth about his ever-growing crush on his dance partner, but knew that as long as Katara was teaching him, he couldn’t act on it; he wasn’t going to risk their partnership or, more importantly, Katara’s job.

But now and again, when his hand was pressed against the small of Katara’s back and she was so _close_ to him, Zuko was willing to risk everything. Then the music would fade, and Katara would pull away, her smile so wide and kind that Zuko would remember how important teaching dance was to Katara – nothing was worth potentially taking away something that made her so goddamned happy.

The final notes of the music wavered, and Zuko pulled Katara closer as they spun around each other, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as the last note echoed around the room.

Amber eyes met blue, and for a second their gazes held steady as electricity flickered in the air between them. Zuko could have sworn colour was rising to Katara’s cheeks as she pulled away, a small smile gracing her features.

Katara walked over to the iPod balanced precariously on the piano in the corner of the room, switching it off as it began to play a more upbeat song.

“You know, your dancing has seriously improved, Zuko,” Katara said, slipping the music player into the front pocket of her backpack on the floor. Zuko ran a hand through his shaggy hair as he grinned in satisfaction.

“Thanks. I learned from the best, you know,” he replied. Katara turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised as she rolled her eyes at him, clearly biting back a grin. She shook her head slightly as she turned around, releasing her hair from the tight bun she’d placed it in. Brown locks cascaded down her back, and for a second Zuko could only stare.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Katara said nonchalantly, sweeping her hair back so she could begin to braid it, and shaking Zuko out of his sudden stupor, “you’re good enough now that you could begin a more advanced class. I was wondering if you wanted to move on to the next stage of training.”

Zuko moved towards his satchel in the opposite corner, slipping it over his shoulder as he leaned against the non-mirrored wall.

“You think?” he asked, surprised by Katara’s words. He knew he wasn’t a bad dancer by any means, but he hadn’t expected to go on to a more advanced stage of dancing.

Katara turned back to him, hair pulled over her shoulder as she stretched her hair tie around the end of her braid. “Yeah!” She smiled at him. “You’ve improved so much. I’m not really sure I can teach you much more, and I think moving up a level will perfect your footwork.”

Zuko paused.

“Wait, you wouldn’t be my teacher?” Zuko frowned slightly. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

“I only have the initial dance teacher training qualifications,” Katara said, hand stuck in her backpack as she fished around for the keys to the studio. “You’d be learning with Aang, who has the advanced training. He’s a good teacher, you should go for it. Aha!” she exclaimed as she brandished a keychain in her fist, waving it in the air to show her success.

Zuko couldn’t quite stop the pout which formed on his face.

“But you’re _better_ than Aang,” he mumbled, crossing his arms as he looked sternly at the floor.

Katara’s lips twitched into a grin, swinging her backpack onto her shoulders and heading towards the door. She nodded her head towards the exit with a pointed look at Zuko, who followed her lead and began to walk next to her.

“True,” Katara laughed as she flipped the light switch and bathed the studio in darkness, “but Aang’s lighter on his feet; having him as your teacher will really fine tune your dancing – none of my methods have helped you to keep your steps small. Aang might be able to help with that, and then your balance will improve greatly, and then _voila_! You’ll be as good as me in no time,” Katara said. She locked the door behind them, and wrapped her arm around Zuko’s as they slowly walked through the corridor.

Zuko looked at her, unable to control the warmth spreading through his arm where her hand was placed on it, or the heat rising to his face as his pulse quickened.

“I highly doubt _that_ ,” he replied, his voice shaking slightly. Katara squeezed his arm reassuringly, taking the quaver in his voice for uncertainty.

“I’m serious. You’re _good_ at this, Zuko. You could be amazing, with a little more training,” Katara said, looking ahead of them, her steps slowing as they reached the entrance of the building. They stopped walking, and Zuko could feel Katara tense by his side. She moved her arm out of Zuko’s, pulling at a loose string at the cuff of her sleeve, suddenly nervous.

She turned to face him, looking him over as if trying to come to a decision. The moment swelled in the silence; Zuko didn’t want to interrupt Katara’s thought process, but he was also aware that the lights were about to go out any minute now, and spending the night in a locked building didn’t sound particularly appealing. Katara seemed to come to the same conclusion, and stood a little straighter as she met Zuko’s confused gaze.

“I was thinking,” Katara began. She hesitated, still pulling on the ever-unraveling thread of her jumper, before continuing. “If you move to Aang’s class –then you wouldn’t be – _we_ wouldn’t be - If you’re not my student any more, then maybe we could grab dinner some time. You know. If you wanted to.” The words came out in a rush, and after they had spilled from her lips Katara seemed to lose her nerve, looking at the floor with a sudden intensity.

Zuko’s mouth dropped open, and it took him the whole of a second to reply with a resounding “yes.”

Katara’s head snapped back up, blue eyes wide as her cheeks darkened.

“Yeah?” she asked, uncertainty lacing her voice.

Zuko nodded.

“Yeah," he said, taking Katara’s hand as he twined their fingers together.

“Dinner sounds great.”


End file.
